Not a Cat Person
by LockedIn221B
Summary: John disappears and a mysterious blonde cat starts to follow Sherlock around. Could this just be a coincidence? AU
1. Chapter 1

The case had been long and tiring so Sherlock couldn't wait to just return home and collapse onto the sofa. Maybe, if John was lucky, he might consider having something to eat and even sleeping. He knew that would please his partner.

_Thinking about John_, Sherlock thought to himself, _where is he? _The genius lifted his eyes away from the floor and scanned the area around him. No John. Sherlock thought back and couldn't actually remember the doctor leaving the Yard. The sociopath stopped and ran his fingers through his dark curls. He turned on the spot to see if John was walking behind him for some reason.

There was nobody. The streets were practically deserted on the warm summers evening. There was no one roaming the pavements save for the lanky detective. The genius shrugged and continued striding forward towards the flat. The sociopath's partner had probably left for some sort of course or training weekend that Sherlock had deleted. It can't be important otherwise he would remember.

The genius marched on until he was outside 221B Baker Street. He plunged his hand into his deep pockets and rummaged around. He could hear the keys rattling but the metal objects were avoiding his violinist fingers. Almost a minute later and the great detective was jerking up and down in the hopes of moving the keys to touch his hand. He groaned in frustration as the search drew on. Mrs Hudson was away so he knew that knocking on the door would achieve next to nothing. The genius was beginning to get extremely flustered and irritable when a loud noise made him look to the floor.

The tall man leapt back in disgust as the creature made the moaning noise again, "Miow!"

"Uch! Shoo! Be gone with you. Off you go." Sherlock spoke down to the animal.

The cat peered up at him curiously. The creature was blonde all over and had a light pink nose. The animal had markings like a leopard across its back. Sherlock didn't know enough about cats to identify the breed but knew that he didn't like it. The cat looked up at the genius with big blue-grey eyes. Suddenly, the blonde creature shot his head around to look down the road. It must have heard something, Sherlock mused. The fur was thinning slightly on its left shoulder as if there was a scar there.

The large deep eyes looked up at him again before the beast began to scratch its claws on the back door. The detective stamped on the concrete so that the small animal bounded away a few meters. Sherlock took this opportunity to haul his keys out of his pocket and rapidly unlock the door. He darted inside and slammed the door behind him. The man was just a second too slow as the cat's tail was millimetres from getting caught in the door as the creature elegantly ran inside.

A loud groan broke from his lips as he glared down at the skinny animal that sat beside his shoe. The detective hooked his foot under its belly and moved it outside. The cat hissed in disapproval as it was removed from the house.

Quick as a flash, the cat wrapped its legs around the sociopath's shoe and gripped on with its long claws. The detective shook his foot but the graceful creature didn't budge. Sherlock brought his leg back in the door and the cat leapt off. It bounded over to the stairs where it sat regally on the second step. The animal licked its paw and ran it over the pointy ears that stood always alert on its head.

Sherlock huffed, "What's so bad out there?"

That cat peered at him but didn't reply.

"What's out there which is making you hide in here?!" The tall man demanded to know.

The cat still didn't answer and the long tail began to move slowly backwards and forwards along the step. It wasn't enjoying being shouted at.

The lanky genius glared at the cat for a moment before groaning and slamming the door. This time he _knew _that the cat was inside.

"FINE!" He shouted. "Just for tonight. Don't think I'll let you stay any longer than that!"

"Miow!" Sherlock scowled at the animal as it called out happily.

"Shut up!" The man with ebony curls snapped. "You remind me of my brother." He mumbled beneath his breath.

The man stormed up the stairs and the cat was on his heels the whole time. Sherlock sped up to try and get the animal away from him. The cat simply took bigger strides and began leaping up two or three steps at once. Sherlock wanted to curse the creature's famous agility.

The sociopath reached the door to the flat and ran inside and slammed the door. This time he was successful. The cat was trapped outside and was separated from the man by a wall of wood.

The animal began to cry out in a high pitched miow and run its claws over the wood, creating the most annoying scratching noise.

"Stop it!" He snapped through the door. The cat obeyed. "I let you in but if you keep doing that I'll throw you out. I'm not letting you in here. You're probably disease ridden and smothered in fleas." Although, he had to admit that it seemed to be in good condition.

The clawing stopped, and after one more whining miow the cat fell into silence, "and you'd better not pee on Mrs Hudson's floor," he added.

Sherlock nodded to himself, glad to have shown the thing that he was boss. He moved over to the sofa and collapsed onto it. He was about to drift off to sleep when his stomach reminded him it was there. The genius pulled out his mobile and rang the nearest Chinese takeaway.

* * *

A loud knock on the door woke a snoozing Sherlock. He pushed himself up and listened in bewilderment as the visitor began cooing at something.

All his questions were answered as he opened the door and the pesky cat ran in. Sherlock span round to grab it but it had already hidden somewhere.

"Darn cat!" Sherlock bellowed.

The Chinese woman at the door shook her head as if she pitted the detective, " No, Mr Holmes. Cat is lucky."

"I didn't ask for your cultural heritage. I know enough about that already." He uttered while his eyes roamed around the room for the trouble maker. He thrust some money at the woman and shut the door on her face. He threw the takeaway onto the coffee table and got down on his hands and knees to search for the creature.

"Here, puss-puss. Come here." Sherlock called softly. He could feel eyes on him but he couldn't find the retched thing.

He stood up again and peered around the room. His eyes were suddenly drawn to movement on the coffee table. The animal was smelling the Chinese that sat on the coffee table with interest.

The genius leapt forward with his arms stretched out, ready to grasp the cat. The elegant creature sensed the detective coming and darted off towards the kitchen.

The sociopath continued on his path until he had crashed into the coffee table. He was going to have bruises tomorrow. The genius sighed in defeat and pulled his mobile out of his pocket. He needed back up.

"I need your help. A cat." He said. The other person responded and Sherlock's mouth formed a frown. "When can you come? When will you be done? Tomorrow?! Okay, fine. See you then."

The sociopath pulled his food out of the bag and began to eat it while he sat, keeping a look out, on the sofa. Every now and again he would see a glimpse of the animal before it darted into hiding.

"He's mocking me," Sherlock muttered to himself as the cat sprang up onto John's chair and sat watching him eat. The cat's deep blue-grey eyes were almost human with the emotions they displayed. He would swear that he recognised those eyes.

That night after Sherlock had fallen asleep, the cat felt smaller, cold and lonely so it set off in search of some company. It found Sherlock's door and pushed against it until it opened with a gentle click which echoed through the dark flat. The animal froze. It knew it would be back to get caught.

Silently, it moved into the room. It located the bed and with one easy leap it was on the soft blanket. The genius was snoring slightly and the cat released a low purr in satisfaction. It wriggled itself under the thick blanket and then shuffled into the gap between Sherlock's arm and torso. The man tightened his arm around the cat like a child hugging a teddy but the cat didn't mind. He just liked to feel the warmth of someone next to him.

The cat fell asleep and then all was quite apart from the light purring and soft snores.

* * *

The animal awoke suddenly as Sherlock began to shift and wake up himself. The cat tried to squirm out of Sherlock's tight hold but the movement made the genius leap into consciousness.

"Ghaaar!" Sherlock cried as he chucked the cat across the room.

The small animal hit the wall and let out a loud squeal. It fell to the floor and shot out of the room. Even though he didn't like the monster, Sherlock felt instantly bad about what he did. The man pulled himself out of bed and padded through to the kitchen. His eyes scanned the area for the blonde cat with deep blue eyes. It was nowhere to be seen, so Sherlock began to search the living room.

* * *

Molly started to tread on the stairs that led up to 221B. She could hear a word being repeated again and again. She frowned and hurried up the stairs.

As she opened the door, the sound became clearer and the woman could work out what was being called.

"Heisenberg!"

The genius was lying flat on the floor with his arms and head partly wedged under the sofa. "Heisenberg, come here. I just want to check that you're okay!"

"Heisenberg?" Molly asked, confused.

The detective jumped and hit his head on the bottom of the sofa, "Molly! You're here! Werner Heisenberg was a German physicist and philosopher, who is noted for his crucial contributions to quantum mechanics. He devised a method to formulate quantum mechanics in terms of matrices, for which he was awarded the 1932 Nobel Prize for Physics."

"You've named the cat?" She was shocked.

"Yes."

The beast, Heisenberg, then darted out from underneath the sofa to Molly's feet. She gazed down at the pretty cat.

"Oh Sherlock! He's beautiful!" She murmured as one hand reached down and stroked the animal. "It's a Bengal!"

"A Bengal?" The detective didn't know whether to be happy or concerned.

"Bengal is the breed. It's well-known for its gentle temperament and loyalty. Sherlock, I'm sure this has an owner somewhere. It's not the type of cat you just lose. They are very expensive." The cat pushed its blonde head into the woman's soft touch.

"So if it has an owner why is it here?" Sherlock leant his head to the side in a questioning matter.

"Must have taken a fancy to you or maybe it was scared. It must have been well looked after. I doubt it has been outside before." She muttered thoughtfully. "He's got beautiful eyes. Very deep."

The cat gazed up at Molly and purred softly.


	2. Chapter 2

"I didn't realise that you liked cats." Molly muttered.

"No. I don't. I'm not a cat person." Sherlock said sternly While peering down to the animal which was sat almost on top of Molly's foot.

"What have you done for it?"She asked the man while stroking the cat's soft head. The blonde Bengal let out a loud purr to show it's delight.

The sociopath leant his head to the side in a questioning manner. He didn't understand what she meant 'done for it'.

"To care for Heisenberg?" The pathologist prompted again with a small smile at the eccentric name.

"Ummm..." The detective struggled think of anything which be had done to take care of him.

"Okay," Molly could see the man having problems. "Let me rephrase. What have to done with the cat so far?"

The detective found this much easier to answer, "I let him in. I shouted at him then after he slept I threw him against the wall."

"You threw him!" She cried and picked up the cat so she could cradle it in her arms and check for broken bones. The cat obviously didn't like being picked up and struggled against the woman's hold. Heisenberg couldn't break free so he called out a pained cry. The woman quickly opened her arms so the cat could leap down and run over to Sherlock. The genius looked down at the annoying creature in bewilderment. Animals have never really liked him so why was this one following him?

Molly shuffled awkwardly to the sofa and gently sat down. She rested her head on her hand and watched the animal circling the man's legs.

"How do you know it's a he?" She was curious.

"I don't. I just assumed."Sherlock replied quietly. They naturally fell into silence. I wonder if John would like a cat, Sherlock thought.

They spent a few more minutes gazing at the expensive creature with deep blue eyes and blonde fur. Molly really did find it beautiful and was slightly disappointed that it hadn't crawled up onto her doorstep.

"So," Sherlock's sudden shout made her jump. "Caring for it..."

"Yes," She rose from where she had been sitting. "I bet he needs to go to the toilet."

Sherlock's eyes darted off in the direction of his bathroom with a slightly worried expression.

"No! Don't be silly!" She cried. "We'll let him outside."


	3. Chapter 3

The detective stood in the door of 221 Baker Street with Molly Hooper close beside him. They duo both were looking down at the floor. They watched as the blonde Bengal hesitantly stepped out onto the pavements.

The cat looked up at the two people with his deep blue eyes. Molly nodded in encouragement and Sherlock raised an eyebrow, although he refrained from telling her that the animal couldn't understand the action.

The cat seemed to understand, despite Sherlock's scepticism, and it scuttled further away from the door. The cat looked back every few small steps to make sure they were still there. Sherlock stepped out to follow it but Molly grabbed his sleeve.

"I'm sure Heisenberg can manage on his own. We can wait here." Molly said softly to the detective.

The sociopath looked down at the woman and sighed, "What if he wonders off?" He asked, glancing down the road at the cat which was trotting way. It seemed that the cat had gained confidence.

"Then he probably went home." She pulled Sherlock back into the house.

"What if he doesn't go home and returns here but the door is shut?!" The detective protested. He folded his arms and pulled back so Molly couldn't drag him further into the flat.

"Then we'll leave it open a little for him." Molly said while walking back up the stairs. She heard the genius huff so she looked over to him. "I'll make tea. Come up after you've done the door."

She made her way up the stairs and Sherlock watched her every step. _Your tea won't be as good as John's,_the sociopath mocked. After she was gone he span around and threw the door open so that it was wide open. He then marched over to the stairs and sat on one of the bottom ones with his long legs stretched out beneath him.

The detective rested his head in his hands as he stared outside the door. The pedestrians walking passed gave him funny looks but none stopped to ask what he was doing.

Tourists,business people and local Londoners all passed by the open door of 221 Baker Street but there was no sign of a beautiful blonde Bengal cat.

Sherlock's stomach grumbled and as if on queue, Molly came down the stairs carrying a tray. She stepped passed the sociopath and placed the tray on the floor. It was carrying two cups of tea and two sandwiches. It was clearly lunchtime.

Molly glanced around awkwardly, "Isn't John here?"

"No." Sherlock replied quietly.

"Where is he?" It wasn't like the doctor to leave his partner alone very often.

"I think he is at a conference or something."

"You 'think'?" She questioned.

"I have to delete something!" Sherlock defended himself.

The pathologist frowned slightly, "Did you two have a fight or something?"

The genius mumbled under his breath and shifted where he was sat on the step. One hand began massaging circles into his other palm. He glanced down at the old floorboards in an attempt to avoid eye contact. Strangers on the street were glazing in as the walked passed, curious to see inside a building they passed everyday.

He mumbled again and Molly couldn't quite make out what he said, "What was that?" She encouraged.

"I said, that I may have shouted at him before he disappeared." Sherlock looked up at the woman as if seeking comfort.

She wanted to offer support but she knew that any physical contact would be unwelcome.

"It's okay, Sherlock. I'm sure he'll come back soon." The pathologist soothed.

"How can you possibly know that?!" Sherlock cried out.

"I know that because John has stayed with you so long that it would be a waste of all that time for him just to leave. He knows that as well. He always comes back for you." She stood and walked back up the stairs leaving the detective to wander through his mind palace.

The genius waited for the cat to return. He glanced down at his watch and sighed as the cat had been gone for almost 3 hours. The detective groaned and leaned back against the steps, ignoring the one that dug into his lower spine. Molly had been down a few times with drinks and food but Sherlock still felt alone. _Why am I drawn to this cat?_

_Where is Heisenberg? Where is John? Why has he left me?_

The sociopath pulled his phone from the pocket in his trousers. He held it in his hands for a moment and glared at it as if it was keeping John from him. He pressed the button and the touch screen lit up. He quickly slid the lock across and opened up his messages. Lots of old messages popped up, mostly from John asking for milk(which Sherlock never got).

His nimble fingers opened a new message. He thought for a second before typing. He decided to keep it simple,

_**Where are you? -SH **_

_**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed,favourited and followed. It makes it all worth while.**_

_**X Lockie (LockedIn221B)**_


	4. Chapter 4

The detective's grip on his mobile didn't loosen and his intense glare out onto the street didn't cease. It was nearly 2 hours since he had sent that text but there had been no reply.

The shadows had began to grow longer as the day started to fade into night. Cold night air was blowing into the flat and the cat still hadn't returned. The genius grunted in frustration and moved to close the door. He was about to slam it shut when he changed his mind left it open just enough for the cat to climb through.

He turned and strode up the stairs to 221B. He burst through the door and Molly leapt out of her skin. She had fallen asleep while waiting for the detective to return upstairs.

She held a hand over her pounding heart as the sociopath threw himself down into his armchair with a grunt of frustration.

"Gosh, Sherlock! You gave me a fright." She told the thinking detective. "Where's Heisenberg?" She glanced around the floor as she asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" Sherlock huffed defensively.

"Because you were waiting for him!" Molly said slowly.

Sherlock just shrugged and steepled his hands under his chin. Molly looked down at her watch with a sigh. The pathologist stood and began to gather her things together as it was getting late.

The detective barely noticed when she left because he was so absorbed in his mind palace. Her farewell call went unanswered as she stepped out of the flat and began down the stairs.

The detective grunted an hour later when he noticed that she was gone. He called out to her but the lack of response signalled that the woman had left. Sherlock pulled himself out of the slouch he had fallen into and pulled out his mobile. He slid the lock across and went to check his messages.

_**New messages: 0**_

Sherlock sighed and allowed a thread of worry to instill itself into his brain._ Where is John?_ The detective fiddled with his phone for a moment before he started a new text for his missing lover,

_**John, where are you? I need you.- SH **_

The sociopath had only just sent it when he started another,

_**Did I do something wrong?- SH **_

And then another_,_

_**I'm sorry. Please forgive me. - SH **_

And another,

_**Please come home. I need you. - SH **_

The detective waited for almost an hour but no response came. He yawned. It was the early hours of the morning and Sherlock began to find himself very tired. He placed his phone on the arm of the chair and allowed himself to slide down in the chair. The genius allowed his head to fall back onto the back of the chair as sleep started to take his mind and body.


	5. Chapter 5

The detective groaned a sound dragged him from his much needed sleep. He stretched and a sharp pain called attention to the kink in his neck. He always regretted falling asleep in his chair. As he stretched, his eyes wondered about the flat to see where the noise had originally come from. It was the extremely distinct sound of a spoon hitting the side of a china mug.

He blinked when he saw a sight that he had be dreaming of in his kitchen. There, right in front of him, was John Watson. The doctor stood stirring two mugs of coffee quietly. A small smile broke onto Sherlock's face as his brain registered that his partner was finally home. His eyes darted over the rest of the flat and a frown began to decorate his lips. Where was John's suitcase? He wouldn't of gone away without something with him. He was wearing the same clothes as he was when he disappeared. Sherlock frowned slightly.

"John?" Sherlock asked as he stood and walked towards the kitchen.

The doctor hummed in answer to the sociopath.

"Where have you been?" The detective tried to sound casual. He didn't succeed in sounding casual.

John glanced over his shoulder from where he was stirring the teas, "Just... at a conference. I did tell you." John let his voice trail off.

"Oh... While you were gone I got a cat." Sherlock said simply. The taller man leant his head to the side, monitoring John's reaction.

"Did you?" John glanced around the kitchen floor, " Where is it?" Smirking, he asked.

"Heisenberg had to go." The ebony haired man studied his nails. He took a calculated glance at his partner.

"Oh? Why did it have to go?" The soldier turned and handed the warm mug to his partner. He leant against the work surface, sipping from his favourite RAMC mug.

"He had fleas." The sociopath fabricated a lie.

"He did not!" The short man sputtered.

"How would you know, John?" The detective said as a smile ghosted across his lips.

"Well... I doubt it did." He tried to amend.

Sherlock shrugged and walked out towards their shared bedroom, "Oh well. It doesn't matter now. I just think it's puuurrrrfect that you're back." Sherlock chuckled as he walked out of view.

**_Sorry that this took so long! I know it's short but I just wanted to draw it to a close x_**

**_Lockie _**


End file.
